Jump The Gun
by adolescent-knee-socks
Summary: When a mission gone awry requires Davenport to reveal his connections with a superhero hospital, the lab rats try to deal with the chance of a loss while also protecting the hospital from an unexpected blow that could possibly worsen the condition of their sibling.
1. Chapter 1

**Is it normal to be completely nervous about your first crossover?**

**Since I wanted to do both a new Lab Rats thing and a new Mighty Med thing, I decided to combine both of my desires for a new story into one big three-shot, which I hope will only take a couple of weeks to complete.**

**I haven't figured out yet if I want to put pairings in here or not yet. I know for sure that if I do, there will be no Brase and most of the ships will probably be for MM, though it's mainly picking between Skoliver or Koliver...**

**I'm not good at ending beginning A/Ns, so...**

* * *

Bree

**tor - ren - tial**

_adjective_

**_abundant, overwhelming, or irrepressible_**

* * *

Bree's never been shot before.

Throughout the entirety of the two years they spent going on missions, the thought of harm was constant, but it actually happening still shocks her to her core.

She wasn't looking, didn't see the bulge of a weapon tucked into his waistband, but it's out and the trigger's being pulled with lightning speed; her fear sets in too fast for her to run away from it - the fear, the gun, the line of fire.

With a loud bang, her ears pop and her stomach belts with pain. Her screams raise into the smoke-filled air, over her name leaving her brothers' lips, the frantic static of Leo and Davenport in her com set.

Everything fades for a moment. Her head swims, her knees buckle, black spots parade across her vision.

But soon reality hits her like a freight train, and her gloved hands are sticky with dark stuff that coats her punctured abdomen. She screams again, because the thick air and breathing make the wound crack open and everything is abuzz with pain.

"Bree!"

The voices are closer, but full of static. Big arms swoop her up - she stares at the ceiling lit in the glow of the small flames. The glow makes her acutely aware of how hot the room is, all the sweat collecting at her brow, but she's never felt more cold.

Adam looks down at her while he runs; she is the only thing in his arms. This is confusing, because weren't they supposed to grab something? His arms should be full of chemical samples for Davenport - Bree should speeding around and making sure all the gas sources are secure. But she isn't and her limp, bloodied, body is the only thing in his arms.

That would mean they failed their mission.

"Ada..." His name falls from her lips in a foreign fashion, the effort to speak full of hurt. Does he realize this phenomenon, too?

He looks down again; the air above his head is clear but the sky looks gray and ominous, as if it's about to swallow the entire world.

"Try not to speak." His voice cracks in odd places, and his eyes are mysteriously wet.

Bree wants to, though, because she knows talking will keep the sleepiness at bay.

:

Darkness swallows her whole. She floats, trapped in an inky ocean full of humming voices and undefinable shadows. Bree closes her eyes but they're already shut; when she tries to force them open, the weight of them feels to heavy, like they've been stapled to her cheeks.

In a momentary clarity, voices ring out like the bangs of a fired gun.

_Do something. I can't get the blood to stop!_

_I can't do anything here; the bullet's irregular and if I try anything, it could kill her faster._

_What do we do?_

_There's...we have to go...Adam, gentle with her._

The tones and separate desperate cries fade back together again, and she's sinking, the ocean digesting her with its own gravitational pull.

Bree tries to kick out, but she's frozen and when she opens her mouth to scream, the ink floods in and stains her lungs.

:

Chase doesn't want to look, but he can't pull away.

Never has it not occurred to him that there would be risks. Missions would get worse, more serious, more dangerous. People would become sicker, more twisted. They would have guns, weapons, things to defend themselves.

In all his worries, all his consuming thoughts, Adam, Bree, and him were invincible. They would carry their own weapons, walk with their own confident, defying stride, save the day, save the people.

Their heroism would be insatiable.

Now, all those thoughts are long gone, crumbled to dust as he stares at his sister's body.

He's never seen her look this way. Her face an ashen gray, her eyes suffocating under the stillness of her eyelids, her body so unimaginably motionless. Blood clings to her mission suit like an unfortunate stain. It coats his bare hands and Adam's gloves like a sick war paint.

"She's gonna make it." Adam's voice hangs between them, draped over their sister's body like prayer.

The positivism that's meant for the words leaks at the force of his cracking voice. When Chase looks into his brother's eyes, their glassy with fear and hopelessness, red with big tears of emotion.

If he were to spin and look at Leo and Davenport, still and silent in the front of the helicopter, he bets the same look would be mirrored on their faces.

Ever since they left the lab, Davenport has said nothing about this so-called friend of his. Chase can piece enough together to realize that he must be a doctor, or some kind of health scientist with the answers to fix his sister, to make her come alive again.

He can still picture the moment, because it's been all he sees. Chemical samples in her hand, her foot stepped forward, like she's about to run, and suddenly there's white noise and blood coating her middle and spreading like a virus. He can see her tense frame as for, a second of timeless space, she freezes, before she begins to drop and fall to the floor.

Now, Chase snaps back to the present, locking eyes with Adam.

"I know she will," he responds, and takes Bree's limp hand in his left, and Adam's shaking one in his right, and for a moment, he can almost hallucinate her squeezing back.

:

Just like he thought, it's a hospital. Like a hive, everyone is moving, rushing around to next thing, files in hands and covered in lab coats. Gurneys wheeled this way and that, doctors shouting orders and nurses pressing buttons. But this isn't what assures him

What assures him is the girl with flames in her hands, and the guy with lizard skin and a tail slapping against the floor.

This was a place for people like us, he thinks as Adam runs in, Bree still blank and pale in his arms, and Davenport follows shouting demands that he speaks to Horace immediately.

A gurney materializes in front of them, a doctor and nurse is dark scrubs gently lowering Bree's body and whisking her away as a man in a stark white lab coat with graying hair runs up.

"Donald!" His surprise colors his voice as he takes in the man and his frazzled group of kids, staring in the direction their sister disappeared to. "What are you -?"

"Horace, listen to me very carefully." Davenport leads the man off to the side, and Chase watches as he begins to explain the urgency. If he were to step a few more inches to the right, he could catch the conversation, but he doesn't think he could stomach hearing about his sister's condition again, so he stays rooted to his spot as Leo slides up beside him.

"I know the people here," Leo mutters, his voice quiet under the daily chaos of the hospital.

Chase turns, his interest piqued. "What?"

"These people, the ones on the beds and hooked up and everything?" Leo gestures all around them, indicating the web of patients. "There all from my comic books. All the superheroes I read about. They're all real."

Chase doesn't let the awe in his brother's voice go unnoticed, but he doesn't say anything because it must be nice to meet real heroes instead of three teenagers that spent their lives living in a rich guy's basement.

He recognizes some of the superheroes himself: Tecton, Solarflare, Timeline.

Although any other time he would be completely gobsmacked, there's no energy left for him to be surprised.

**:**

It's the hum of machinery in her ears. She could recognize it anywhere.

Bree floats, feeling airy and light as the buzz of heart monitors, doctor voices, and tiny tools erupt in a dull sound around her. No longer does she see darkness, but a gray haze that feels like a blur in her eyes. She wants to reach up, wipe the blur away, see clearly and gather her bearings, but she's stuck - frozen in a pit of panic.

Something beeps. It grows louder and faster with each second of panic that passes in the grayness.

_Oh my god, I've never seen such a thing!_

_Holy hell, Horace, we need to slow her heart rate down; bionic or not it's reaching explosive levels here._

_I got it! I got it! Everyone just stay calm._

Things calm down. Too much. Bree feels a prick in her arm, and the world becomes liquid around her, thick and fluid.

Sedative, she thinks. She's never had one before; Chase always freaked about what they could do to their bionics. Davenport's never outright mentioned it, but it's been clear over the years on his negative opinion on any of them getting one of any kind.

Her last thought is how mad he's going to be when he realizes what's she been given before the world vanishes again.

:

"Kaz! Oliver! I need a favor from you two."

It's not often Horace approaches them. Never, really, does he do it - it's more of them begging him for an assignment and him handing them one out of pity.

This logic is poised on the tip of Oliver's tongue, then he sees the man's worrisome face and it fades.

"There's a family case here I need you to cover," Horace explains, holding out a clipboard. "Tell the Davenports room 213 in the east wing should be ready in about three to four hours."

"Wait, wait, wait," Kaz interrupts, holding up a finger. "_Family_ case? Isn't treating normos a big no-no here?"

"There a special case," is all Horace will concede before walking away, muttering to himself.

"I hate when he does that," Kaz complains.

Oliver looks at the board. "I don't get it," he says, completely ignoring his friend's whining. "If she's a normo, her health stats should be much lower in the apparent condition in. And judging from the operational protocol that's reported for her surgery, she should already be dead."

This seems to have grabbed Kaz's interest, because he's looking over Oliver's shoulder, taking in the what the clipboard says. "The injury itself seems impossible to survive."

"Exactly," Oliver agreed. "But if she's stable enough to undergo surgery, then what is she?"


	2. Chapter 2

**I take back my original statement: this will be a four-chapter story instead of the three-shot.**

**This may seem a little bit confusing so far, but I promise there will be more background information in later chapters.**

* * *

Leo

**vis - cer - al**

_adjective_

**_instinctive, gut, instinctual_**

* * *

"Bree Davenport?"

Leo stands immediately, straightening from his slouch against the wall. The rest of his family follows suit, snapping to attention. He has a sudden tug in his stomach for his mom and her warm hugs in times like these.

The boys in front of him couldn't be younger than his edge, but the one who spoke - the smallest of the pair - held the clipboard with a grim face, dressed in a doctor's coat identical to his friend's.

"I've been told to rely some information to you about her surgery," he announces, and Leo feels himself softening around alert edges at the empathy in the guy's voice. His eyes sweeps across all of them, friendly and kind. "The estimated time is roughly three to four hours, and she will be located to room 213 in the east wing."

"You seem a little...young to be a doctor?" Chase speaks up, eyeing them both critically.

Neither even bother to flinch at his blunt fashion. "Yes, but we are also considered experts because of our vast knowledge on our patients and their powers," the darker haired one says, the first one nodding in agreement. "Trust me, your sister's in good hands."

"May I speak with however can give us the best background knowledge on Ms. Davenport?" the light-haired one politely asks, taking them all in.

Leo's opening his mouth, about to Davenport forward, when the man himself takes out his phone. "Actually, Adam and I have some debriefing to do with Tasha on the accident, so why don't I let Chase and Leo assist you with that?"

Then Davenport's dragging Adam away, down the hall and around a corner.

"I'm Oliver," the shorter one supplies, then juts his thumb over to his friend. "This is Kaz. I know this may seem a bit weird to you, but we're only looking for the rest of the story."

"How she sustained her injury, what her symptoms were in the moments before she reached here, and any of the required medical history you think would best benefit her stay here."

Leo and Chase share a look; medical history would obviously include telling them about the bionics, which seems dangerous, even in this dire situation.

Then again, they were at a hospital for actual, living, breathing superheroes.

"You wanna take this?" Leo looks at Chase intensely; this seemed more like mission leader territory.

Chase straightens, hands curling at his sides. "My sister had a bionic chip implanted in her neck at birth, and because of that, her body and immune system have grown around it, blending in the abilities of the chip into her blood cells."

"Cool," Kaz breathes, and Oliver nods encouragingly, jotting down the occasional note.

"All three of them have it," Leo adds, because what could it hurt? "They were going to a warehouse on the outskirts of California when it was unexpectedly ambushed. It was a gang of five, possibly seven. At least three of them armed."

"It was a gun shot to the left rib cage, but not a regular bullet," Chase adds, face grim. "We suspect a chemically-experimented one, used especially for attacks or shootouts."

"A chemical bullet would make most of the injuries internal, which means less of a mess at the scene of the crime," Oliver mutters, scribbling it down. "The surgery was reported to have been mainly focused on the internal bleeding and getting rid of a toxin that was flooding dangerously close to the lung. A few ribs were fractured, but that's hardly impossible to fix." Oliver smiles. "I promise, she'll be fine and ready to go in a week, two tops."

"Plus, which the bionic chip installed, her body is probably heightened to withstand more than a normal human's," Kaz chimes in, looking at his buddy's note. "She might be already trying to heal herself, if I'm not mistaken. Which, is a good thing, because that makes less of a risk for infection within the blood stream."

"But, the toxin could also try to fight back, and spread more rapid fire and makes it way through her lung," Oliver states, but he's still smiling, still sympathetic. "Which is exactly what are finest surgeons are going to stop."

He doesn't say _trying_ or _will probably_. It relaxes Leo's whirlwind thoughts, slightly undoes the knot resting in his stomach.

(But it isn't enough to entirely diminish the planted dread there; the immense weight of wrongness at just being here crushes him like an anchor pinning him down.)

"Have you done this before?" Chase asks. Leo looks at his brother's tired profile; the darkness already under his eyes, the yellow ill look of exhaustion that made his eyelids drop, the negative fix of his mouth, looking permanently stuck in a scowl.

Chase is desperate - desperate for answers; for Bree to be okay; for the mission to have never happened at all. Just like Leo, he wants something to cling to, even as something as stupid and misleading as a false hope.

"No," Oliver answers. He knows what Chase is looking for to. "But I promise you, every superhero that has entered the same surgery room your sister's in has come out, and are out in the world, saving lives now. Everything will be fine."

Not even the thick sincerity of his voice can not make _fine_ sound like a lie.

:

A girl finds him in the hall that leads to the double doors of the surgery unit, where he sits in another row of uncomfortably plastic chairs, counting down the hours that his sister is due out of surgery.

She's pretty, and reminds him of Bree is a warrior princess way - a fit build, long, dark hair, naturally fierce eyes, and dangerous looking in her tight suit, even if it was pink. She wore it with a confident ease, as if it was another layer of skin she'd been born with.

Leo instantly recognizes her as Skylar Storm.

He hasn't read many of her comics, but he knows a few people around school who have, and have tiny pin-ups of her in their lockers. She's, in the best way possible, every nerd's dream girl.

"I haven't seen you here before," is her opening line. Her tone is accusatory, her expression distrusting. "Normos aren't allowed in here unless Kaz or Oliver."

Leo jumps to his feet. The last thing he needed was his butt being thrown out. "Listen, I have no idea what a normo is or why I'm it, but my sister's in there -" he points frantically in the direction of the surgery unit double doors " - and it'd be really nice if you didn't get me thrown outta here."

Skylar's lips fold into her mouth, thinking, before she finally sighs. "Whatever, you're more Kaz and Oliver's responsibility than mine, anyway."

"Uhm, thanks?" Leo says, unsure, because he's pretty certain there's no right way to answer something like that.

"So, your sister is the bionic they're operating on?" Skylar questions, eyebrows raised and her arms crossed.

Leo nods, sitting back down.

"Science was never a huge thing on our planet," Skylar confesses, leaning against the wall opposite of him. "But we weren't dumb or anything; everything was already being invented, so we decided not to mess with the cycle. So I guess what I'm saying is, the flash of bionics is lost on me."

She looks over at him, taking him in with her dark, intense eyes.

Leo has never thought of explaining what his siblings were capable of before. Everyone that could know without causing them danger either already knew and understood it, or knew about it but didn't try to understand. He's spent the last two years of his life living by the idea of a person outside family knowing would mean that Adam, Bree, and Chase would be taken away forever.

But now nearly an entire hospital full of superheroes and their doctors knew. What's another one going to hurt when she has to keep her own identity a secret.

"Bionics are basically like superhero powers, except not naturally there." Leo fumbles over his words. They fall out, feeling heavy with awkward as they fall from his lips.

"So, like they're from a nuclear volcano or something?" Skylar asks, her eyes wide with alarm.

"No, no, no! Nothing like that!" Leo is quick to deny with a vigorous head shake. "It's like what you were saying before - it has to do with science. A lot of science and tech stuff. But, explained to its minimum, it's a whole bunch of different super powers loaded into into computer chips and put in their necks as babies."

"But couldn't that, like kill them?" Skylar protests with a puzzled head tilt. Her confusion on the subject only seems to deepen.

"It could've, but Davenport used the write formulas so that the power of the chip worked with there immune systems. Now it's the opposite, kind of - if the chips were to be disabled or taken out in any way, they might die."

"Because they've lived their entire lives with them," Skylar concludes slowly.

Leo nods, lips pressed together tightly.

"That sounds like a lot to risk on one stupid chip," she decides, a small bitter note to her voice. "Especially when powers aren't all they're cracked up to be."

He frowns at her words, but Skylar either doesn't notice or doesn't care as she slumps against the wall, glaring at the aluminum tiles.

Maybe there's a bigger weight to having special abilities that Leo hadn't been able to see all this time in his siblings. But how could he? They were always so fierce and determined to save lives, as if it wasn't something they could live without doing.

He's been selfish to not realize that it must be tiring to face death all the time, especially when it can lead to tragedy.

Leo thinks about this more as he sinks further into the creaking plastic chair.

He's never had to face the price of returning from a mission a legacy instead of a teenager.

Suddenly he feels like a huge asshole, because that's the price of saving lives that lingers over his siblings heads each time they're sent out.

That must be the thing that's truly killing them.

:

Skylar drifts away from Leo when his mother arrives, breathless from an uneccessarily big hassle with security.

Soon enough she finds Oliver and Kaz huddled together in the rec room, bent over a spread of papers on the table. They couldn't have been any closer if they were in the same body.

"What's all that?" she asks, squinting at the documents.

Oliver briefly looks up. "Oh, hey, Skylar. We're just looking over some stuff for the Davenport case."

His voices sounds off - tired and worn, like he's been using it too much.

Kaz senses this, taking over. "We're just reviewing all her past medical history to make sure anything that is done in surgery won't affect her bionics."

"Will you have to mess with the chip?" Skylars asks, taking a seat acoss from them. As soon as she does, her leg goes off, beginning to bounce up and down at almost abnormal speeds. She can't help her nerves; the thought of some innocent girl being in her exact, powerless position makes her want to puke up her insides.

"No, actually," Kaz says, running a hand ove the paper closest to him. "Whatever the toxin the shooter had wasn't even one assembled for the purpose of hurting her chip, so I doubt the gang members knew she - or, they, I guess - had the abilities in the first place."

"It's basically a posion meant to harm the arteries," Oliver adds. He rubs a hand over his tired face. "Which is exactly what we're trying to stop."

Skylar leans back. It's true, what she told Leo - her planet has never been one of the most scientific ones. It wasn't a planet scientists tried to investigate, and they weren't known for making a discovery that could rock Earth to its core. No, it's just a planet that gives birth to heroes and villians, and no one's ever tried to disturb that peace.

But this girl, Bree - science experiments are all she knows. She's grown surrounded by them, living as one; the possibility of a life lived with little to no science involved is probably impossible to her. Which is a sad way to live. Once a superhero, Skylar was permitted places on Earth that were maginficent - ancient ruins, exotic cities, beautiful and dangerous lands.

To think of someone that possesses the same abilities that permit her the same oppertunites, but she was never able to take them, almost makes Skylar want to cry.

And now that she may possibly be dying - a poison spreading through her like wild fire, infecting her lungs and setting he organs aflame with disease - makes it even worse.

:

At twelve thirty two am, the surgery is finally complete.

Leo watches, against a wall, as his mother squeezes her husband as tight as she can, and Chase balls his fists, pinching his face up so he can't cry.

Adam doesn't hide, especially when Bree's wheeled into her room in the east wing; big tears roll down his cheeks, but he turns away and buries his face in his hands, trying not to show it.

Leo pretends that he doesn't see Skylar Storm lingering down the hall, appearing anxious.

Briefly, he wonders what happened to her - why no comics have been released in months, why she's at a hospital, why, why, why.

But he doesn't have the heart or attention span to ask, because all his energy, every fiber in his being, is focused on the moment he'll finally be able to see Bree, looking at her inhaling and exhaling like every person does when they breath, see her heart beat as she _lives_, and knows that she's okay.


	3. Chapter 3

**I really want to do a new Mighty Med one-shot, but I have, like, zero inspiration.**

**I'm open to any ideas you guys have!**

* * *

Adam

**ex - tro - vert - ed**

_adjective_

_**gregarious, outgoing**_

* * *

He doesn't know why, but Davenport elects him to see her first. For an even bigger surprise, no objects. Even the stone-faced Chase or the tearful, snotty Tasha.

When he enters, he wants to puke. The room smells too clean, like a janitor closet and maid's cart all rolled into one. He knew that if Bree was awake, she would hate it too.

But the smell isn't even the worst part. The worst part would have to be the room. Bree likes color; everything about her screamed color. Now, she's lying unconscious in a too white gown, tucked in too loosely in too white sheets in a too blah room.

He hates it. And if she was awake, he knew she would hate it too.

Maybe that's what Adam likes most about he and his sister. They both had the same passion for fun things - goofy, silly, colorful things that are easy to laugh at. Chase liked fun too, but his brain always made his definition of fun different than theirs.

Above all, Bree has been a force of nature for him his entire life. The brief year he went without siblings us completely lost in the never ending length of time, and for that he is grateful; Adam knows he wouldn't be able to stand remembering a time in his life that having Bree and Chase simply existing with him had actually been real.

To have that force - his closest friend, his only sister - gone all because of a stupid gang was like Mother Nature taking the sun away because there was too many rain clouds.

Adam takes a seat in the closest itchy chair to Bree's bed and takes her limp hand in his. The skin feels too cold, her fingers slack in his tight grip. He tries to will the tears from his eyes, because if he ends up bawling in here, he'll probably break her hand.

"You're not gonna die," he whispers, staring intently at her ashen eyelids, her wispy lashes laying motionless on her cheekbones. The words are something he'd heard Chase say, the small doctors say, and what he's thinking she would say. Everyone keeps telling him the same things - she'll wake up soon; it's just the medicine; surgery is a big thing to recover from, Adam, give her time.

Because he's been asking since Chase heard the squeak of her gurney carrying her from the operating table and through the hospital to her room.

But if she's fine, then why isn't she awake?

:

"Can I see her?"

Kaz frowns, looking up at Skylar curiously. "Bree Davenport? Why do you want to see her?"

He doesn't say it in a mean way, just a questionable one.

"It's just...as a self thing, I guess. To see that she's living, breathing."

Truthfully, Skylar didn't really know why she wants to see the Davenport girl so bad. Somehow, she knew that if that girl died here, something in Skylar would change. And it would help if she could at least see her chest rising and falling.

"Well," Kaz says slowly, "I'm only suppose to allow immediate family to visit."

Skylar's shoulders slump. It'd been a long shot anyway.

"But, me and Oliver are her main doctors," Kaz continues slyly, "so I suppose if we were permit you special access, that wouldn't be a crime, now would it?"

:

A girl knocks on the door.

Adam is no stranger to superheroes, but this one, with brown hair and bright pink spandex that reminds him of a more girly version of their mission suits, isn't ringing any bells.

"Oh!" She blinks, as if he's the one that's out of place here. "Hi, I didn't know anyone would else was in here."

"Who are you?" Adam asks, as blunt as ever.

"Skylar, Skylar Storm. I kinda live here, in the hospitable."

"Without being a patient?" Adam asks skeptically. Even he knew that hospitals aren't exactly a number one hang-out, crawling with comic book heroes or not.

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain."

Adam looks to his sister's still body. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

Skylar shifts in her spot nervously. "Right."

With stiff movements, Skylar stoically places herself on the edge of the chair opposite of Adam.

Briefly, Adam thinks of what the rest of his family would think of a strange girl who likes living in hospitals sitting in Bree's room, who she's likely never met before, but doesn't open his mouth to question her motives. It's kind of nice having another presence in the room - it makes Bree seem more alive somehow, as if she's about to animatedly pop up and begin conversation in the next minute or two.

"Have the doctors said anything?" Skylar asks, breaking the vast silence between the two. Adam feels weirdly faraway from her - like the berth of his sister's hospital bed's miles wide. "About her waking up and when?"

He thinks of the young doctors; the ones who dwarf themselves in lab coats that carried a shared clipboard and walked too close together, as if it would physically hurt to be apart.

"No, not much," Adam confesses finally. "Just that all signs of impending infection and blah blah blah have left her body. She's healing, I guess."

Skylar nods as if she gets it, and maybe she does.

There's another pit of silence, stretched as taut as a pulled rubber band, which she also snaps in two with a small inhale of air.

"I know what your sister's going through," Skylar confesses quietly, her voice impossibly small. Adam's head snaps up, but she doesn't look at him, instead focusing on the point where Bree's IV pokes into her arm.

"When I was admitted to the hospital, they say I was out of it," she begins, "I was talking nonsense, sweating like crazy, claiming to see things that weren't there. It was weird, because I didn't feel anything, even though I had to get stitches and had a concussion.

"I don't really remember what happened, just that I woke three days later feeling awful and with no powers." Skylar looks on gloomily.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," Adam says sadly, but it doesn't feel like enough.

Skylar shakes her head. "It's whatever. I've grown used to it, I guess." She changes her stare so that she's looking at Bree's IV bag, looking wistful. "In some ways, I've gotten more experience. I go to school, I make friends, I live." She shrugs halfheartedly. "It's not the worst thing that could've happened."

Her unspoken alternative hangs in the air.

"Are you like her?" she asks quietly.

Adam takes ahold of her sister's hand, looking at the blue lines that run up her arm. They look like washed away marker. "Yeah. All of us are. Except Leo and our parents."

"Leo's a good kid."

"You've met him."

"We talked," Skylar explains distantly. "Reminds me of Oliver and Kaz."

"Her doctors?"

"And my friends. They actually helped me with my normo status."

"Normo?" Adam echoes, confused.

"It basically means non-superhero," Skylar tell him, finally looking up to his face. The tension in her shoulders seems to ease out a little, but not a lot. "Like, normal. Human."

"What would we be?" Adam asks aloud.

Skylar tilts her head, looking thoughtful. Her eyes burn holes into him, as she takes in every aspect. Every color, every hair, every thing that makes him. It gives Adam chills.

"I don't know," she says finally.

He doesn't either.

:

"Kaz, look at this."

At his name, the boy looks up. Oliver's looking at him over the top of his laptop monitor, looking startled.

Immediately, his senses all kick in to overdrive. A scared Oliver isn't something he likes to see. "What? What is it?"

"I was looking into the Davenports - you know, trying to see who knows, what connections they have, anything that could link us to how their bionics work, just in case any special procedures had to be called in, stuff like that," Oliver explains in a rush, beginning to type away at light speed on the keyboard.

Kaz's forehead crinkles. "Horace said he would handle anything that needs to happen out of protocol."

"This entire patient is completely out of protocol," Oliver points out. "And I mean in it a good way; if they need help, at least they can find it here, you know? But asking Horace all the questions I need answers to isn't going to get me anywhere. I can tell he and Donald Davenport go way back. Nothing he could would give any real answers."

The darker haired boy sets down the file he has in hands in favor of leaning over Oliver's shoulder, taking in the several opened tabs. "So, what'd you find?"

"Apparently, Donald has a brother - an old partner he worked with until their partnership fell apart and destroyed their company," Oliver paraphrases from the article in front of him. "Donald rebuilt from the ground up. His net worth is now over thirty million a year. He even has a business deal with the military and NASA."

Kaz shrugs. Those kind of ties doesn't sound that bad to him. It may even benefit the care for his bionic children. "What's so bad about that?"

"Supposedly, his brother died in a explosion of their old plant base," Oliver continues on, clicking as he switches tabs. "But just a few months ago multi-millionaire Victor Krane fell off the grid. A friendly source says he picked up a partnership with someone with the initials D.D. and cut all his old ties."

"As in Donald Davenport?" Kaz guesses.

Oliver shakes his head, craning his neck back to look at his best friend squarely. How close their faces are makes Kaz's heart speed up. "No, the brother,_ Douglas_ Davenport."

Kaz leans back to look at the opened document. "Okay, so the dude isn't really dead. What does this have to do with Bree's injury?"

Oliver shrugs, staring hard at his laptop. "Maybe nothing, but something about the attack seems too off. It was supposed to be a clean mission, but instead a gang that seems to know about their advanced health and better immune system jumps them with special guns? It seems off. Way off."

"We don't even have any proof that it was him, or that it was a planned attack," Kaz argues, but a knot's building in his stomach, getting tighter with each second. "They could've used the specialty weapons with the intention to kill humans."

Oliver sighs heavily. "You could be right." But he still stands, slamming the laptop closed to tuck underneath his arms. "But I think we should have a talk with the Davenports."

* * *

**Sorry that I've kept you waiting! I was honestly stuck with how to write Adam in the naïve, childlike way we see him on the show, so in the end I think I ended up making him a bit more serious and stoic, because I think as the oldest, and possibly the most protective of the three that that would be the way he acts to the situation.**

**How about all of Oliver and Kaz's digging? That can't lead to good things.**

**Or could it?**

**I may be doing an epilogue, just because I don't know if I can fit everything I want this story to be into a final fourth chapter. So, maybe there will be five chapters.**

**And I do mean what I said above in the beginning A/N - if you have any ideas of prompts you want to see from me for Mighty Med or just a specific idea for Koliver or any of the MM pairings, then PM them to me or put them in a review and I'll try my best to write it and get it out to you guys.**

**Until next time! (Which is hopefully sooner.)**


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